#unknown cone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brittle-doughie · 5 months ago

Note

I somewhat NEED Y/N Cookie having a holly jolly Christmas with the Triple Cone Cup trio and the cookies in tha latest update for

No reason.

Other than it being the time of the year for Christmas

Trouble with Triples (Triple Cone Cup/Grand Cookie Games Cookies)

———————————————————————

“Did you set up the Christmas lights outside already, Pudding A La Mode Cookie?”

“Correct, I made sure not a single spot outside wasn’t covered by the lights!”

“Woah, and you did this without me prompting you to! Nice job.”

“That’s sweet of you, but know what else is sweet? The pudding that I want from you now!”

“Alright alright, you’ve earned it, here.”

“Has anyone seen Prune Juice Cookie? Did he come back from outside yet?”

“Uh, PALM. Did you happen to see him?”

“Hmm….”

[Scene cuts to a flailing Prune Juice Cookie as he’s tangled up in christmas lights]

“Nah, haven’t seen him.”

———————————————————————

You were working on setting up the wreath on the door when you felt someone tap your shoulder!

“Hey, Y/N Cookie, do you have a minute?”

Yeah, give me a second.”

You thought the wreath looked pretty steady on the door and you turned around to see Green Tea Mousse Cookie literally face to face to you.

“Oh! Uh, hey there, Green Tea. What are you..up to?”

Green Tea kept her closeness, looking up above her as she nodded her head at you. You look up yourself to see that she was holding up a mistletoe above the both of you!

“Ah, I s-see!”

“Come on, are you going to deny me a kiss? Under the mistletoe?”

“What? No! That’s the rule, y’know. You gotta…kiss under the mistletoe.”

Green Tea went first, readying her lips and closed her eyes.

You did the same and were about to meet her in the middle…

“Hey, Y/N Cookie! You’ve gotta check out this snowman I made! It’s a little melted, but still looking pretty SPICY!”

You jumped at Capsaicin Cookie’s sudden appearance that it caused you to back up towards the door, hitting the wreath and making it fly up in the air! It would trap you three inside of it when it landed back down.

Green Tea yelped and let go of the mistletoe, going up in the air and landing on your head. She was surprised at first, but just shrugged and kissed your cheek, making you squeak as your face turned red.

“Woah, is that a mistletoe? Well, I ain’t turning down something like this! Are you ready to withstand my spice?!”

Capsaicin eagerly kissed your other cheek, only making the blush worse. Just how long would these two keep this up…?!

———————————————————————

You were sampling a small cake slice to taste, figuring that the end product turned out pretty good.

“Y/N Cookie, Kouign-Amann Cookie needs your assistance for a moment! The Christmas tree needs the star placed at the top!”

“Coming!”

You leave the cake slice down and head off into the living room, allowing Prune Juice to slip right in and have a taste of the slice.

“Hmm, not bad, but it could use a little more to the texture. It’s a good enough I keep a particular potion for this occasion.”

Prune Juice Cookie pulled out a potion bottle, the contents of the liquid unknown but was that of a rosy pink color. A mischievous look to his face grew as he popped the cork off the tap.

“Just one drop is enough to make it even better…”

“What are you doing?”

Prune Juice jumped at the voice behind, turning around to see Choco Drizzle Cookie behind him, narrowing her eyes at the Cookie as she adjusts her glasses.

“I was just making sure the cake tasted just right for when the party starts.”

“And you chose to try it on that specific slice first? The same exact slice Y/N Cookie was eating?”

“I didn’t want it to ruin the cake if the potion ended up not working.”

“…You should leave.”

“And what about you? What are you doing? Are you just going to stand here in the kitchen all the time?”

“It’s so Cookies like you don’t try to take advantage. I’ll let this provocation slide for now, but know that I won’t be so lenient next time.”

“I think that you were just watching Y/N Cookie the whole time and I get it, they’re quite the sweet Cookie to look at~”

“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, so that’s what this was about all along.”

“I told you to leave. Now.”

“I’m back, Kouign was able to poke at the star with her sword until it fit into place…uh, what’s going on?”

The two stopped their back and forth to pay attention to you at the kitchen doorway. Prune quickly tossed the potion to Choco Drizzle!

“It was her idea!”

“You will pay for your transgression!”

———————————————————————

420 notes · View notes

kaces-graham-crackers · 2 months ago

Text

My Eyes on You - Valentine's Special

| -Tara Carpenter x Secret Admirer Reader- |

Summary: It starts with a note—small, unsigned, tucked into Tara’s locker like a secret waiting to be unraveled. One at her usual café, slipped between the pages of a book she was reading. Each one too personal, too knowing, referencing moments and memories she didn’t realize someone else had been holding onto. The final note—a time, a place. The answer is waiting in the dark; the admirer is finally ready to be seen.

Word Count: 3.5k

The final bell sliced through the low hum of conversation, a signal that sent students spilling into the hallways like floodgates had been opened. The usual chaos of end-of-day energy buzzed around you—weekend plans being made, lockers slamming shut, the steady stream of people funneled toward the exit.

Beside you, Tara walked quickly, fingers toying absentmindedly with the edge of an envelope she had just pulled from her locker—another one. “Alright, let’s see what my little ghostwriter has to say today,” she mused, already peeling it open. Mindy, Chad, and Anika slowed their steps just enough to listen, equally nosy and entertained. Chad groaned. “Again? What is this, like, the third one this week?”

“Fifth,” Tara corrected, unfolding the note with the same air of nonchalance she had every time, as if it didn’t matter. Like it wasn’t slowly picking apart the edges of her mind. Your stomach twisted as she smoothed the paper, eyes scanning the words before reading them aloud. "I wonder if you ever noticed how they looked at you that night at the ice cream shop. The way you made it hard for them not to fall. The way you always do."

Silence.

Anika let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s kind of... romantic?” “Or creepy,” Mindy added, arms crossing. “Who even remembers that night?” You did.

You remembered how Tara had ordered her usual—chocolate with sprinkles—then, for unknown reasons, attempted to balance the entire cone on the back of her hand. She’d made it three steps before it tumbled, a mess of melted ice cream and laughter, the kind that doesn’t just fade away but settles somewhere deep, like an old song stuck on repeat. And maybe, you had looked at her a little too long that night. Tara scoffed, shoving the note into her pocket with practiced ease. She played it off like it was nothing and didn’t sit in the back of her mind like the others did. Like she wasn’t already dissecting it, wondering who had been watching her so closely.

If there was one thing about Tara Carpenter, she didn’t like not knowing.

The group stepped outside, the evening air crisp against your skin, thick with the familiar scent of damp pavement and the distant burn of street food carts from the edge of campus. Students filtered onto the sidewalks, peeling off toward dorms, Ubers, and whatever half-baked plans they had for the night. Chad slung his backpack over one shoulder, exhaling sharply. “This is getting weird,” he muttered, glancing between Tara and the half-crumpled note in her grip. “First the locker notes, then the one in your notebook, and now this?” He gestured vaguely at her pocket, like the mere presence of the letters was an affront to common sense. “How the hell are they even leaving them without you noticing?”

“They’re sneaky,” Mindy supplied, ever the voice of rational paranoia. “Or you just don’t pay attention.” Tara rolled her eyes. “You’re both being dramatic. It’s just some random admirer. No big deal.” Anika smirked. “You like the attention, though.”

Tara didn’t deny it. Instead, she shrugged, nonchalant, but there was something else beneath it—a flicker of thoughtfulness as her fingers absently brushed the edge of her pocket. “I just think it’s funny,” she mused, voice lighter than the look in her eyes. “They remember stuff. Specific things. They’re either incredibly observant or completely obsessed.” Quinn chimed in, “Or both” lips twitching with amusement. “And I, for one, think that’s hot.” Tara was right. The notes weren’t just recycled compliments or half-hearted poetry. They were deliberate—threaded with memories, details so specific they felt like echoes of something intimate. Little moments she hadn’t realized someone else had been holding onto.

As the group neared the edge of campus, the natural rhythm of parting ways set in. Chad was already absorbed in texting someone, Anika and Mindy were murmuring about where to get food, and Quinn peeled off toward the subway without a backward glance. But Tara lingered, hands stuffed in her pockets, shoulders loose but mind elsewhere. "You gonna keep them?" you asked, keeping your tone light, though something about the weight of her answer already hung in the air.

She glanced at you, then looked away just as quickly, a barely-there smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Probably. Maybe one day I’ll figure out who they are." Something was behind her voice, something layered beneath the teasing—a challenge, a certainty. She was already putting the pieces together, forming a list of possibilities.

And if she kept looking and followed the trail long enough, she would find the answer. The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time you and Tara found yourselves sprawled out in the living room of her apartment, an unspoken tradition after long school days. The coffee table was cluttered with remnants of a shared snack—half-eaten chips, a bottle of soda, Tara’s feet propped up like she had no intention of moving anytime soon.

Tara had all six notes fanned out in front of her, scanning them one by one, brow furrowed in concentration. You leaned over slightly, pointing at the most recent one about the ice cream shop.

“Alright, so whoever this is, they were there that night,” you said. “And they remembered it in a way that isn’t just casual. Like… ‘I saw you spill ice cream on yourself’ is one thing. But this?” You tapped the line Tara had read aloud earlier. The way you made it hard for them not to fall. “That’s personal.”

Tara hummed, running a finger over the note. “It could still be a coincidence.” You shot her a look. “Five other notes, Tara. At this point, it’s a pattern.” Before she could respond, unlocking the front door made you glance up.

Sam stepped inside, shrugging off her jacket. Her hair was slightly tousled from the wind outside. She blinked when she saw you both camped out on the floor, and then her gaze flicked to the scattered notes between you.

“… Okay. What conspiracy are we unraveling tonight?”

Tara sighed dramatically, tossing one of the notes toward Sam as she flopped back onto the couch. “I have a secret admirer.”

Sam caught the note midair, raising an eyebrow as she read it. She stayed quiet for a moment, then exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple like this was the last thing she needed to deal with tonight. “You’re not taking this seriously, are you?” Sam asked, already walking toward the kitchen. Tara smirked. “Why? You jealous?” Sam scoffed, opening the fridge. “I’m exhausted. And the last time someone started leaving weird messages around, I had to stab a guy, so forgive me for not being thrilled about this little romantic mystery.”

You chuckled. “Not everything is a potential murder, Sam.”

She shot you a pointed look as she grabbed a water bottle. “In this family? Everything is a potential murder.” Tara rolled her eyes, sitting up again. “Look, it’s someone in our friend group. They’d have to be close enough to know all these details about me.” You nodded. “So, let’s break it down. Who was at the ice cream shop that night?” Tara glanced at the notes again, thinking. “Me, you, Mindy, Anika, Chad, Quinn—”

“And Ethan,” Sam added from the kitchen.

You paused. “So basically… everyone we know.” Tara groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Great. That narrows it down.” Sam leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Or… you could just not entertain this.” Tara ignored her, eyes scanning the notes again, fingers tapping idly against her thigh. The admirer had been careful, deliberate. But not careful enough. Someone in your friend group was watching.

The following note arrived at the usual hangout spot��Mindy’s apartment, where the group had piled onto the couch for their weekly horror movie night. The air smelled like popcorn and leftover takeout, and the coffee table was already littered with empty cups and snack wrappers.

Tara had been sitting beside you, legs tucked under her, fully prepared to ignore Chad’s commentary about why horror protagonists always make the worst decisions. But as she reached for her phone, a note brushed against her fingertips inside her jacket pocket. Her stomach sank as she pulled it out, carefully unfolding the small piece of paper, already knowing what it would be. Mindy noticed first. “Oh, for the love of—another one?”

Tara ignored her, smoothing out the paper as she read aloud.

"I wonder if you know how you pull people in without trying. How your laugh lingers, how your presence shifts the air. If only you could see yourself the way I do." The room fell silent.

Chad groaned dramatically, running a hand down his face. “Okay, that’s it. This is officially romantic stalker levels now.” Mindy leaned over, peering at the note. “Gotta admit… they’ve got a way with words.” Tara’s expression was unreadable, her thumb running over the ink as if she could feel the weight of the words. This was different from the others. More personal. The admirer wasn’t just watching her anymore. They were hoping she’d see them too. Anika nudged her playfully. “So, do you have any guesses yet, or are we still pretending this isn’t completely messing with your head?”

Tara huffed, folding the note carefully before tucking it back into her pocket. “I don’t know. It has to be someone close, but…” She trailed off, her gaze flickering briefly toward you before shifting away just as quickly. She wasn’t ready to finish that thought. Not yet. But she knew you would have her back whoever or whatever would happen next. The night air was crisp, cutting through Tara’s jacket as she adjusted the strap of her bag and fumbled with the keys in her pocket. The streets of New York were still alive around her, the dull roar of traffic, the occasional burst of laughter from passing strangers, the rhythmic buzz of the city that never quite slept.

She was exhausted. A full day of classes, followed by an impromptu hangout at Anika’s place, had drained whatever energy she had left. All she wanted now was to get home, shower, and maybe—maybe—finally stop thinking about the secret admirer that had been slowly unraveling her brain for weeks. It had become a routine: a note here, a whisper of a memory there, moments from her life reflected at her like she was walking through a house of mirrors. She wasn’t sure when it had stopped feeling like a game. Tara stepped into the elevator of her apartment complex, jabbing the button for her floor before leaning against the cool metal wall. The ride up was quiet, the distant hum of the city fading into the background as she let her head fall back, exhaling slowly.

She was starting to think she’d never get an answer. Then the elevator doors slid open. And she saw it. A single envelope was placed carefully at the foot of her apartment door.

Tara stopped breathing.

It wasn’t wedged under the door like a delivery, nor had it been tossed carelessly to the side. It was placed deliberately, centered perfectly, as if waiting for her to pick it up.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she stepped forward, kneeling slightly to grab it, fingers trembling just a little as she turned it over in her hands. No name. No initials. Just a tiny, folded note, simple and unassuming. But Tara knew better. She exhaled sharply, pushing the door open with her shoulder before stepping inside, kicking it shut behind her as she walked straight to the couch, already unfolding the paper.

The handwriting was familiar now. She had spent weeks staring at it, tracing her fingers over the ink, memorizing how the words slanted slightly, like the writer had been hesitant and confident all at once.

But this time, it was different.

This time, there were no riddles, no carefully crafted phrases meant to make her think. This time, there was just a single message.

“Meet me on the rooftop. Sunset.”

Tara’s breath caught. There was no signature. No initials. Just instructions.

For the first time, the admirer wasn’t hiding behind poetic confessions or lingering memories. They were asking her to meet them. Her fingers clenched around the paper, pulse pounding in her ears.

She had spent weeks playing this game, reading notes, searching for connections, and chasing a shadow that refused to be caught. Now, they were stepping out of the dark. And she was going to see them. Her first instinct was to text you.

She didn’t know why—maybe it was because you were always there when she found these notes, the one person who didn’t roll their eyes or brush it off. Maybe it was because she trusted you to keep her grounded when things felt slipping out of her control.

Tara: You free?

You: Always. What’s up?

Tara:… meet me. Roof.

She hesitated before hitting send, but only for a second. She didn’t want to go alone no matter who awaited her.

When Tara pushed open the rooftop door, the sky melted into soft shades of orange and pink. The crisp evening air greeted her first, followed by the distant hum of the city below, but none of it registered—the moment her eyes adjusted to the dimming light, she stopped short.

The rooftop had been transformed.

Roses, carefully arranged, petals scattered across the surface. A table set for two, candlelight flickering inside small glass jars. A bottle of chilled sparkling grape juice sat in an ice bucket, beads of condensation forming along the glass, next to her favorite meal, plated with precision, waiting for her like something out of a dream.

Her breath hitched. She felt you step up beside her, the warmth of your presence grounding her before she could spiral.

"This is…” She trailed off, shaking her head. "Okay, what the hell?" She turned slightly, scanning the rooftop, waiting for someone to step forward. But no one did. No movement. No shadow emerging from the dimming light. The realization sent a strange chill down her spine.

No one was here.

She exhaled, a mix of frustration and disbelief curling in her chest. "I don’t get it. Who—" She stopped because you weren’t looking for anyone. You were looking at her. And suddenly, it was too quiet. Before she could speak and string together the thousands of questions screaming in her head, you opened your mouth. Tara’s mind was short-circuiting. The notes, the memories, the lingering glances that never seemed out of place until now—it was all you.

She didn’t know what to say.

For weeks, she had been searching for an answer, turning over every possibility, teasing out every clue, only to realize the answer had been standing next to her the whole time. Her jaw tightened as she exhaled sharply, trying to process it all. “You seriously had me running around like a lunatic over this?” You huffed out a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “In my defense, I didn’t think you’d go full FBI mode.”

Tara shot you a look, arms crossing. “You were writing me anonymous love letters. What did you expect me to do? … not wonder who the hell was obsessed with me?”You blinked. “‘Obsessed’ is a strong word.” Tara scoffed, pulling one of the notes from her pocket and unfolding it dramatically. “Oh, I don’t know. ‘I wonder if you know what you do to people’ seems intense.” You groaned. “Okay, yeah. Maybe a little obsessed.”Silence stretched between you for a beat. Then—Tara raised a brow. “So?”

Your brows furrowed. “So…?” She gestured vaguely. “Aren’t you going to explain yourself? Or am I supposed to be so charmed by this grand rooftop gesture that I swoon and fall into your arms?” You smirked, arms crossing. “Would that work?” Tara rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

You inhaled, exhaling slowly before shrugging. “Look… I wanted to tell you. I did. But every time I got close, you’d get excited about the mystery, and I—” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I chickened out. I figured if you were looking for the answer, maybe—just maybe—you wanted to find it.” Tara tilted her head, considering you. “And if I didn’t?” You swallowed. “Then I guess I would’ve spent Valentine’s Day up here alone, eating an embarrassing amount of pasta and wallowing in my bad decisions.”

She let out a sharp breath, something like a laugh, and shook her head. “Jesus. You’re an idiot.” You grinned. “An idiot who likes you, though.” Tara bit her lip. Something in her expression shifted, something softer—dangerously close to fond. “... Yeah,” she murmured, not looking away this time. “I kinda figured that part out.” She was still standing close—too close—and suddenly, it wasn’t the city air making it hard to breathe. Tara’s gaze flickered over your face, searching, weighing something.

“You made me go through all of this just to tell me something I probably already knew, didn’t you?” You smirked. “I dunno. I think you kinda liked the chase.” Her brows lifted. “Oh? That what you think?” You shrugged. “I mean, you didn’t have to come up here. You could’ve just ignored the note. Tossed it. Pretended you weren’t interested.”

Tara sucked in a slow breath, her lips curving ever so slightly. “… Maybe I like knowing how far someone’s willing to go for me.” Your heart stumbled out your chest. She was teasing, but something was dangerous beneath it—something honest.

You wet your lips. “Would you be mad if I kissed you right now?”

Then—she smirked.

“Depends,” she said, tilting her chin slightly. “Are you gonna make me chase you for that too?”, and just like that—you were done for. Because before you could think, before you could overanalyze or second-guess or do anything remotely rational, you leaned in.

Tara met you halfway, and suddenly, nothing else mattered.

The city faded. The roses, the flickering candlelight, the skyline stretching beyond the rooftop—all of it blurred, dissolving into the background the second her lips touched yours. She kissed you like she had been waiting for this—like she had spent the past few weeks unraveling a mystery only to realize she had been at the center of it all along.

She met you halfway, but it wasn’t enough. Not for her. Not after weeks of chasing a mystery, weeks of untangling riddles and second-guessing what she wanted. Now that she had you right in front of her—now that she knew it had always been you—she wasn’t going to hesitate. So she didn’t. Her hands slid up, gripping the collar of your jacket before moving—faster than you expected, rougher than you expected—to the back of your neck.

And then she pulled. There was nothing soft about it. Your breath barely had time to hitch before her lips crashed into yours—a collision, not a question. It was all at once—weeks of tension, wondering, and wanting, all spilling into how she kissed you now. Firm. Certain. You made a quiet, startled noise against her mouth, fingers twitching at your sides before finding their place—one hand pressing against the curve of her waist, the other sliding up to cup the back of her head.

She tilted her chin, deepening the kiss, swallowing the sharp breath you took like she wanted to keep it. Your head spun, lungs burning from how completely she had just stolen the air from them. When she finally eased up, she didn’t let go. Her fingers lingered against your skin, her grip still firm against your neck, like she wasn’t ready to step away. Her breath was uneven when she finally spoke. “Took you long enough.”

You exhaled a short laugh, forehead brushing hers. “Me? You’re the one who had me running all over the city like a detective.” Tara hummed, thumb tracing absent circles against the nape of your neck. “And yet, you still showed up.”You smirked. “Guess I like the chase."

Her lips twitched. “Not anymore, you don’t.” And just like that, she kissed you again. Slower this time. Still firm. Still claiming. This wasn’t an answer—it was a statement. A fact.

Your pulse was a wreck when she finally pulled back, but her hands were steady. She turned slightly, glancing toward the table—the one you had spent hours setting up, the one she was just now acknowledging. Her grip on your neck didn’t waver, but her lips curled as she exhaled.

“You went all out, huh?” You swallowed, still trying to remember how to function. “Yeah. I mean... figured if I was going to confess, might as well make it dramatic.” Tara hummed, finally letting her fingers slip away from your skin—slow, reluctant. She took your hand instead, tugging you forward. “Come on,” she murmured, leading you toward the table. She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, smirking. “Let’s see what you planned for our first date.”

And you—still breathless, still dazed, still wrecked from the way she had just pulled you in like she had been waiting forever to do it—had no choice but to follow.

218 notes · View notes

epicness1000 · 6 months ago

Text

17 REASONS WHY SAMPO KOSKI IS SUS

I'm not sure if I've come across a fictional character more horrendously sus than Sampo Koski.

Since I'm kind of hyperfixated on him (and Dr Ratio too), I will make a post on why our beloved blue scammer is very, very sus.

He is the only character to leave no trace when he walks. No splashes in water, no footprints in the snow. Literally no other character in the game does this.

All of his eidolons, save for one, are made up of two words and are very light hearted: "Rising love", "Infectious enthusiasm", "Big money!", "Huuuuuuuuge money!" and "Increased Spending", all of which reference either his love for money, or his warmth. The one exception is "The Deeper the Love, the Stronger the Hate". What? What do you mean hate? We've never seen Sampo be anything but 'haha funny scam boi'. What a strangely ominous thing to say...

Not to mention the art paired with that eidolon. In every piece of art we have of him, you can see the light in his eyes– not here. The light's completely absent.

His defeat pose. Every character is either kneeling, or sitting down. Sampo is the ONLY one who is still on his feet. This must surely be intentional.

The fact that he's among the few characters with an invalid rating from the rating pistol (Alongside Acheron, Jing Yuan, Feixiao, March 7 and Luocha, all of whom are either extremely powerful, or have a completely unknown past as is the case of March 7).

He is the only character to directly acknowledge the player in-game (Sparkle did this in a trailer, but... it was a trailer, so it doesn't count until it's something in-game). Self-aware character? (This is my own headcanon >:)

He very clearly is not a Belobogian native, this is all but confirmed by the fact that everyone states he just showed up one day a few years back (something along those lines). So... where is he really from? His splash art doesn't seem to be Belobog either...

The fact that the trailblazer turned away from him for ONE SECOND, and he disappeared without a sound??? Like he was never there at all.

The entirety of Funny Bone, which shows a very violent side to Sampo. You CANNOT convince me it doesn't hold some element of truth to who he truly is, because if Hoyo truly intended for him to be harmless comic relief with little more to him, why would they play this song live in an official Honkai: Star Rail orchestra accompanied with the visuals? Would they really approve something showing him in such a dangerous, unhinged and dark light when we've never seen him like that in-game?

The fact that he's a Masked Fool. A Masked Fool who apparently has some moral standards, but a Masked Fool nonetheless. Personally, I suspect he wasn't always so mellow.

THAT WHOLE SCENE OF FIREFLY DESCRIBING HIM, HAVING KNOWN NOTHING ABOUT WHO HE WAS, AND MAKING HIM SOUND LIKE SOME SORT OF SKILLED ASSASSIN?? (I know it was a shapeshifted Sparkle but I think the point still stands. Also, this might just be me, but before I realised it was Sampo following us around, the way FF was talking about our stalker unsettled me and genuinely left the impression that she was talking about an assassin of some kind... wouldn't surprise me if this guy's hands have been stained red in the past).

The fact that his backstory snippets are all of him just goofing around disguised as Madame Poisson? When there's CLEARLY more to him than meets the eye?

THE FACT THAT HE'S ONE OF THE FEW CHARACTERS WHO IS NOT ABLE TO BOARD THE ASTRAL EXPRESS YET????? Even Sparkle can board, so it doesn't have to do with the fact that he's a masked fool. And I think everyone else from Belobog can board, so... hmm... sus....

We find him in the Belobog outskirts. I'm pretty sure it's noted that normal humans can't go out there unprepared without freezing to death, or something? I might be misremembering.

HIS LIGHT CONE! HOW COULD I FORGET HIS LIGHT CONE! Firstly, notice it's not just one sniper targetting him, but there is also a man in the corner pointing a gun at him. The art is called "The Eyes of the Prey", yet when you read its description, Sampo is unsettlingly calm, spotting the sniper from a distance with no warning (makes him sound like he has borderline supernatural awareness, which I think fits with the idea of him being 'self-aware'), and is noted to have more money than the hitman makes from multiple contracts. I think the title is also a subversion– with how in control Sampo is of the situation, surviving TWO simultaneous hitmen, it's quite clear that he is not the prey– rather, it's those who target him.

He knows things he ABSOLUTELY SHOULD NOT KNOW. The fact that he implies that Dan Heng is a dragon? Or his 'knowledge' voice line, which clearly expresses his awareness that we arrived by train (when he should not have this information?).

His eidolon activation phrase is "Everyone has a colourful past, wouldn't you say?" We know literally NOTHING about his past.

So, I'm not sure EXACTLY what this all means, but it's clearly pointing to something. Don't let me down, Mihoyo! You usually do, you filthy gacha bastards, but... try to do Sampo justice please.

#Honkai Star Rail #Sampo #Sampo Koski #HSR Sampo #HSR Sampo Koski #Rambles #No I shall not apologise for insulting MiHoYo #I wish Sampo and Dr Ratio (and Aventurine) were in a better game #I'm no bootlicker!!#But... I am curious to see where this is going

166 notes · View notes

thisisnotthenerd · 21 days ago

Text

it's time for a t-t-t-takedown!

i'm really enjoying this so far. d20's used dnd in a couple of different settings where it hasn't been perfect, but does the job, but i feel like it's really at a good point here as a combat system. quick fights with a combination of skill checks to appeal outside of the ring, it works well.

the shine tokens are a fun aspect as well, playing with the idea of worship and the less physical aspects of the game. i loved their use of the system and how they worked around limitations to get what they needed.

also i love the commentator bit. the instant i saw wrestlers on d20 i wanted murph, ify and danielle to be there, so 2 out of 3 isn't bad at all.

anyway it's time for some quick mechanical breakdowns:

julius mortem:

the son of kronos with a ticking hourglass around his neck

a level 5 monk (subclass unknown at the moment. i'm thinking maybe a little bit of chronomancy homebrew given the shield and redirect abilities)

thea kittleroo:

a cursed kangaroo minotaur

a level 5 juggernaut barbarian (she can't be knocked prone while raging and can push combatants up to Huge size 5 feet in a direction of her choice automatically)

presumably has a feat giving her the thorn whip

adonis thanaformis:

a formerly hot undead king

a level 5 battlemaster fighter (he has a trip attack and presumably 2 other maneuvers)

presumably has a feat granting the fear effect; i'd say it might be a reskinned, one use dragon fear given the cone

tabatha:

the tabaxi goddess of loving your cats

a level 5 rogue (unknown subclass, leaning towards arcane trickster given the magic even though vicious mockery isn't on the wizard spell list)

any feats are unknown, but she has a bag of cats, which i'd call a reskinned bag of tricks perhaps

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #titan takedown #righteous wrestlers #julius mortem #thea kittleroo #adonis thanaformis #tabatha #thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats

93 notes · View notes

victusinveritas · 8 months ago

Text

Did you know the “ice age” never completely finished?

By that I mean… you know the ice sheet that grinded Canada down to bedrock? The one that sat a mile high over Boston? The one that dug out the Great Lake basins? The one that pushed deep into North America, forming massive proglacial lakes and changing the courses of river systems?

That ice sheet still exists.

Sort of.

In Inuit territory, on the great island known as Qikiqtaaluk, you can lick the last, ancient icepop left from that continent-sized ice sheet that once smothered North America like a blanket.

Known as the Barnes Ice Cap, it’s the last fragment left of the mighty Laurentide Ice Sheet. And it’s melting FAST.

It will likely outlive me- but not by much. It’s like a 20,000-year-old ice cream cone, and we’ve dropped it on the hot pavement. In our rapidly warming world, it will likely be completely gone within a century or two.

Its contribution to global sea level rise won’t be particularly significant- it’s a rounding error compared to the Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets.

But to me, it’s like some kind of impossibly ancient alabaster tortoise;

a witness of unknown epochs of history;

critically endangered;

the last living of its kind;

doomed to perch up high on its mountain, drooling, panting, feverish, baked by the sun in a carbon blanket;

until it finally expires, leaving only bare rock and gravel for a grave:

no trace left of an ice age that covered a continent.

Found here on Facebook.

#ice cap #glaciers #laurentides #ice age #glaciation #barnes ice cap #geography #climate change

178 notes · View notes

sirenixspook · 1 year ago

Text

Astrology observations II- based on my own life experience lol.

Virgo moon embodies more Virgo than Virgo sun or rising- they get a rep for being surface level and too linear but they actually work quite instinctively, they just find more emotional clarity in order. I feel like Virgo is the water sign of the earth signs

Pluto In 3rd - problems with siblings, lines are blurred between their classmates and siblings. They might instigate power struggles with their neighbors

Pisces mars feels like recreating deja vu over and over

Harsh sun aspects like sun-pluto can influence a overactive or under active solar plexus chakra

Pisces In 7th- secret relationships, relationships formed in sacred ways, telepathic connection. Also goes for couples with strong pisces polarity

Pluto-mars aspect is probably the worst one out there I am so sorry to anyone with a Pluto mars placement- lots of energy going towards destructive means. This placement can easily escalate to self harm or destructive controlling methods

Scorpio embodies the unknown, hidden and mysterious because Scorpio is that end product that’s not quite seen yet given two things about to be morphed into one another. Pure metaphysical. (Another reason why were the best sign heh 😄)

The sun in the chart is where the persons masculinity is bc it determines traditional “man stuff”, ex food intake, energy usage, willpower, direction. I feel like mars is more feminine

Venus relates to color- where Venus is can influence what colors suit that person the best. For ex Venus 3H may like “early education colors,” dark navy, primary colors, etc. Venus 7H could like balanced colors like neutrals.

Saturn is actually forgiving af as long as you are patient

earth placements fr are blessed with good skin, their grounding helps them dodge the impact of hormonal flare ups lmao

Water signs remind me of triangles/cones, earth signs are square/lattice shaped, fire signs are wavy shapes/circles, air signs are flower/asterisk (*) shaped

Aries mars hates leaving things unfinished

Capricorn mars are sadistic and swift- I read this somewhere before it is so real

Gemini mars clap back in such a frighteningly dull way, and love mind games

Sun in 12th house- their life revolves around their sleep schedule

Sun-moon in the same sign is very common in couples- sun moon synastry is almost a guarantee that pair will be long term compatible. Power couple placement.

Ty for reading, that is all for now 🖤🪞💫

-Ari ⚓️

#astrology #astro observations #stars #galactic #esoteric #spiritual awakening

602 notes · View notes

rockyteriyaki · 6 months ago

Text

i wasn’t quite able to finish my other halloween fic in time for the deadline, so i dragged out a carcar snippet and wrote a little bit for a tumblr fic! 1.5k words, guardian angel au 🪽 @motorsport-halloween

The first place they steer him after a race is the guardian angels tent.

It’s small, made of slippy plastic tarping and held up by thin aluminum, cheap like everything in F3. Water slides off the top and pours down the sides in a clear curtain. Today, there are more guardians than usual: a dense cube of feathers packed together to avoid the worsening storm. Probably because everyone and their mother was sliding around the track just now. Perilously.

Oscar stands on his tiptoes from his spot under an awning, trying to profile the crowd before running out in the downpour. He’s seen his angel exactly one time before- when he’d gotten into a particularly nasty collision and had to retire from a race. He remembers dark wings, dark eyebrows, dark eyes. An accented voice not that much older than his own.

“That was stupid. Do not- like that, you shouldn’t. Be smarter.”

Oscar had just stood there, gaping. Hadn’t closed his mouth until his angel had sort of huffed and turned away, back to the tent. The sparkling rip in the atmosphere was starting to stitch itself up, by then, swirling plastic cones into it like a vacuum. Saved by the bell. It hadn’t been until after he’d left that Oscar realized what he’d really wanted to say was fuck off.

Now, Oscar watches the rest of the grid flock to the tent, skittering in under the rain and finding their angels. He watches them idly recount their race stories to various levels of enthusiasm, subject themselves to pat-downs and wellness checks and lectures as needed. There’s genuine affection in their touches, especially in those whose drivers lost control of their cars or locked up in the rain. Who maybe got a little bit closer to the edge. When he gets to F1, this part won’t be televised, but it’ll be more thorough and more often. Because he’ll be closer to the edge, every single race.

But Oscar was pretty damn close today and his angel isn’t here, so. Maybe not.

Halfway through the F2 season, Oscar decides he officially hates his angel.

Whenever he feels his tires start to slip, whenever he clips the barrier or botches a turn, the adrenaline that rises in his throat is partially because he thinks that maybe his angel will have felt it. That he’ll be waiting for him under the tent or in the cooldown room, this time, and his dark eyes will be filled with something other than cool indifference. Like, a shred of concern for Oscar’s life, maybe. But he’s not, and he never is, and Oscar kind of really hates him.

The next time he sees him is in a bland conference room with Mark, his legal squadron and the team principal of Alpine who’s name Oscar can never remember. His black hair catches the shitty fluorescent-looking light of his halo and Oscar almost walks right back out.

“What is this,” he whispers to Mark. It’s not a hiss. “Why is he here.”

“I have to be here. To make sure your life is not ruined,” his angel says, at full volume. Oscar dislikes him so much.

“You are so—“ Oscar starts and doesn’t finish, which is a tactic he uses when he’d like to say something rude but shouldn’t. “Wait.” He turns to Mark. “Is my life about to be ruined?”

Mark inhales, reaching for his manila folder. The Alpine people wince. His angel waggles his incredibly thick eyebrows.

Oscar doesn’t sign with Alpine. He gets a text from an unknown number that says “See you should listen to me yes?” and he thinks about doing something crazy like throwing his phone against the wall. Instead, he shoves it under his sweatshirt and lets it rest against his stomach. It goes up and down as he breathes.

The issue is that his angel doesn’t leave.

Apparently he has to stick around until the ink is dry on Oscar’s contract, now that he’s waded into this whole mess. He has a little phone-like thing, sleek and rectangular, that lights up every once in awhile with indecipherable notifications about the state of Oscar’s life, or whatever. Oscar is 99% he has it on whatever the all-seeing equivalent of “do not disturb” is. He’s the worst.

“What’s his name again?” Oscar asks, around a mouthful of eggs.

“Carlos,” Mark says.

“Carlos,” Oscar seethes.

“You’re gonna have to nut up, mate,” Mark says. He sounds tired. “It’s standard procedure.”

Oscar wants to ask if it’s standard procedure to be concussed and have the doctors at the track refuse to take you to A&E without guardian angel signoff, and for that signoff to never arrive because your angel can’t be fucked, but he doesn’t.

Carlos is never around unless it’s to steer Oscar away from people and look smug. After the seventieth awkward handshake with the shadow of Carlos looming over his shoulder like an overgrown, disapproving hawk, he pulls him into a corner.

“Can you just tell me what I’m meant to do?”

“What do you mean,” Carlos says. It would have sounded sarcastic, if he hadn’t physically flopped his head to the side as he said it. Something evil settles around Oscar’s heart.

“My fate. My destiny, God’s plan, whatever the fuck, I just—I can do it myself. Please.” It comes out a little bit more desperate than he intends, but still north of begging, so he chalks it up as a point.

“No, I cannot,” Carlos says. “This is my job. Sorry,” he adds, because Oscar has the heels of his hands pressed over his eyes.

“Okay, so what if I—I dunno, disobey you?”

“Then you are making a big mistake,” Carlos says, so solemnly. His wings twitch a little bit, rising and flexing through his shoulder blades. Oscar swallows.

“You can’t stop me.”

“I can. This is my job,” Carlos repeats. His wings flare even further. The tips of the darker feathers almost block out the light, closing Oscar into the corner.

“I’ll sign with Alpine,” Oscar challenges. He doesn’t really want to do that, but there’s some kind of rabbity panic jumping around in his chest and making him stupid. “I could. They want me.”

“They don’t.” Carlos’ eyes are blazing the same neon as his halo. He could be seeing all possible futures right now, for all Oscar knows, and yet he still sounds like a moody toddler, shooting down everything Oscar says.

“I’ll show you the contract, mate, they definitely do.” Oscar is no better than him, apparently.

Except maybe he is, because Carlos steps forward until they’re practically chest-to-chest. All Oscar can see in his periphery are reflections of halo-light and Carlos’ heaving chest, his aquiline nose. “You don’t even—“

Somewhere, an alarm starts going off.

Carlos says something in Spanish, short and sharp. His eyes are wide. He fishes his angel-phone-thing out of his jeans. It’s angry red, flashing and beeping and buzzing all at once. An instinctive panic rockets through Oscar, far away from the warm anticipatory one from a few seconds ago.

“Isn’t that,” Oscar says. Clears his throat. “Um, is that bad?”

“Shit,” Carlos says in English. He does something weird, after that: like his whole body flickering, disappearing for a few milliseconds and then popping back in. “Shit. Oscar. We just—you just made a mistake.”

His accent makes it sound more deliberate. Mees-tek. “What? No, I didn’t.”

You’re not supposed to, like, try to kill your angel, but if Carlos thinks that’s what just happened then he’s even more delusional that Oscar had thought. Actually, it had been sort of exactly the opposite. Carlos had been so close, it was like—Oscar was worried he might—forget himself, or something. Try to do something crazy. Like grab Carlos’ hair and shove his head down and feel his nose against his throat.

Carlos shows him his phone screen. The text, in some archaic angel language, unscrambles before Oscar’s eyes. IMMEDIATE INTERVENTION REQUIRED, it says, scrolling across the top. Then, in bolded lettering in the middle: This message is for CARLOS SAINZ regarding OSCAR PIASTRI. Oscar’s eyes skip around the paragraph, can’t quite take any of it in. They’re not going to let Carlos leave. The angel system—fate, destiny, whatever—registered a god-tier fuckup on Oscar’s part, and they won’t let Carlos leave until he fixes it.

“What did you do?” Carlos asks, his voice annoyingly even as his phone wails and shakes in his hand. “Oscar, what did you do? Did you really sign with Alpine? You take it back and I will be gone, I promise.”

Oscar wants to say it’s just as much Carlos’ fault as it is his, but he can’t quite get the words out around the sudden, vicious longing to have Carlos squared up against him again, ready to fight, so he can watch it all drain out of him. He wants to take him apart, enact his revenge, put him back together again better and more tolerable than he was before.

MISTAKE, Carlos’ angel-cell cries. MISTAKE.

#👼#in which the author procrastinated so hard she ended up doing more work for a different thing than she would have for the original thing #story of my life #anyways then they get stuck in some kind of destiny paradox and fuck about it probably #my fic #carcar

116 notes · View notes

bbbambam · 2 years ago

Text

EMBARRASSING / ANNOYING MOMENTS 💀

featuring. isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, nagi, reo, sae, rin, barou, shidou

warnings. bad grammar, cracks, little cursed words, kinda suggestive in shidou’s

bam’s note. this weird pleasure while writing this, my oh my <3

isagi. you were resting on a bench when he offered to go buy you ice cream. as he walked back with the cones in his hand. he suddenly stumbled on an unknown rock and faceplanted. he also got nosebleed, by the way.

bachira. is one to jump the last few steps of the stairs. it is just today there is some malfunctions. he haphazardly slip and instead let his lower back & butt slide down the steps. it swells and hurts like shit.

chigiri. can’t go on a day without biting you. from your lips, fingers, waist, to thighs. he claims he just can’t resist the urge to sink his teeth in your squishy flesh. now this is your sign to buy a muzzle.

kunigami. is toned with sexy muscles. and he always throws his clothing so carelessly. one day after practice, he threw his shorts and they strike into your face mightily causing you to almost fall on your back.

nagi. it’s the new attack movement that was updated in his game. and he was obsessed with it. in his dream he was rampaging some monsters’ camp and accidentally pulled that move in real life. his elbow bumped vigorously straight into your nose. critical hit, nagi.

reo. it was your anniversary. before you come back, he wants to surprise you in the most romantic way a man could do. he tried to set up the candles and rose petals. however, it looks more like he was about to set your apartment on fire. (he ended up calling his butler)

sae. you were watching his practice so he tryna look hot. running his hand from his chin to his beautiful hair, that was his plan. but boy forgot he’s been practicing for hours. and when the sweats touched his eyes, he cried in pain.

rin. he works really hard when he practices. which more often than not left him beyond exhausted each day. and you offered your shoulder for him to take a nap on the ride home. after a while, your shoulder felt somewhat wet. yes, he drooled your shoulder. he almost pull his hair out when he woke up. (a stream of saliva still pour from his mouth)

barou. couldn’t accept the sight of your room. you just invited him for a sleepover and cuddle. though it turned into him rearranging / cleaning every corners of your room anew whilst rapping moody complaints and instructions on how to properly tidy up one’s house.

shidou. has a habit of groping / slapping your ass. either he’s pissed or jealous or whatever he would reach for your butt. he does it too often and does it too shamelessly. even in front of the audience before his game starts or amidst his teammates. a smug smirk on his face, always.

like heart, love reblog <3

2K notes · View notes

travelingthief · 1 year ago

Text

Dionysus Offerings/Devotional Acts

There'll be NSFW themes as he is the god of wine and ecstasy!

Offerings

Wine/Intoxication

Alcohol, specifically wine

Grapes

Wine corks

Wine glasses

Shot glasses

Goblets

Corkscrews

Sparkling cider

Grape flavored things

Cheese

Weed/hallucenigens

Nips (small alcohol bottles)

Bottle opener

Beer/soda tabs

Alcohol bottles with cool labels

Fruit/fruit seeds

Theater/Plays

Play/theater scripts

Play/movie tickets

Masks

Costumes

Nature

Pine cones

Fennel

Wildflowers

Fig/fig newtons

Ivy

Leopard/cheetah print

Honey

Bull imagery

Donkey imagery

Bones

Antlers

Dead/preserved animals

Hiking gear

Seeds

Dolphins

Depictions of big cats

Wheat

Barley

Ecstasy

Concert/festival tickets

Various drugs (use safely!)

Sex toys

Your favorite music

Misc.

Locks of hair

Shaven beard hair

Pride swag

Extravagant clothes/clothes that make you feel good

Devotional Acts

Wine/Intoxication

Drink alcohol/get drunk

Go to a wine tasting

Make wine

Eat grapes

Trip intentionally/spiritually

Learn about substance abuse/recovery

Destigamtize drug users

Learn about harm reduction

Use drugs safely

Theater

Attend a play

Write a play/film/musical

Make home videos

Write poetry

Act

Dress up

Go to the movie theater

Nature

Go to the woods

Dance/sing in the woods

Meditate in the woods

Learn wilderness safety and first aid

Learn what to do when encountering a wild animal

Go off the beaten path

Explore new areas

Pick up litter

Forage

Recycle bottles

Grow fruit

Try new fruits

Ecstasy

Attend concerts/festivals

Attend/throw parties/celebrations

Have sex

Masturbate

Have threesomes/swing/whatever you’re in to

Finally give into that one kink you’ve been repressing (you know the one)

Do drugs (responsibly)

Learn about consent/establish boundaries with partners

Death/Rebirth

Dionysus is a god of rebirth and resurrection. This association comes from his birth stories and has resulted in epithets like “twice-born.”

Learn how to preserve dead animals

Learn about different life cycles (plants, animals, etc)

Learn about your ancestry

Foreigners

Dionysus is also seen as a foreign god with unknown origins. He also traveled through and invaded India.

Learn about immigration in your area

Learn about different cultures

Try foreign foods

Learn a new language

Learn about your ancestry

Help immigrants in your area

Misc.

Grow your hair out

Manifest/Keep a manifestation journal. Sexual/creative energy is linked and can be used to manifest

Shed your old self

Self-reflection/self-exploration

Identify areas where you may overindulge (food, substances, spending, etc.)

#dionysus worship #dionysus #helpol #greek gods #paganism #hellenic polytheism #bacchus #witchblr #dionysus offerings #offerings #wine

419 notes · View notes

swordy-da-goat · 1 year ago

Note

(last ask for a while bc I feel like I'm nagging you sorryy)

I thought road wiz was like an scp, and now we have hazard monster.

Anyway I wonder how either of them would react to being treated like scps? Hazard would be a keter for sure.

Also if you made a road wiz plush I'd 100% buy it I love him sm

got carried away my bad

The Road Wiz

Item# : SCP-████

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Contained within a Standard Secure Humanoid Containment Cell in ██████, Sector-██ at Site-██. SCP-████ will often teleport out of their containment cell for an unprecedented amount of time before teleporting back. They are allowed to freely walk around the foundation as their skills and “magic” are very useful in securing anomalies, reducing injuries and casualties, and dealing with containment breaches.

Description: A humanoid entity (hard to distinguish if SCP-████ is a human or some other entity due to their hat and scarf obscuring facial view. Request to remove hat was met with opposition) wearing a hat resembling an orange traffic cone with one big and small white, reflective stripes, an orange safety vest with a long cloak attached from the backend, a yellow and black safety coverall, and long black leather and rubber gloves and boots.

SCP-████ is also in possession of a long black staff with a ring on the tip of unknown material. This staff is able to produced anomalous properties which can be better described as “magic.” Their “magic” seems to be a parody of signs, spells being correlated by the top of their staff in a hologram visual. One example being the staff projecting a deer sign when generating a glowing holographic version with mass of any of the Cervidae family.

Addendum 1: Discovery

SCP-████ was first captured near American state highway ██. The foundation was alerted when nearby police claimed that quote, “a portal just f█cking opened in the middle of the lobby where then a weirdly dressed guy wearing a cone on their head kicked a guy through saying to arrest him for drunk driving.” All personnel in the police station were given Class A amnestics. Foundation personnel were then deployed to the last place SCP-████ was spotted. Foundation were able to find SCP-████ feeding some stray dogs under American state highway ██. SCP-████ willingly agreed to come with the foundation for questioning.

Addendum 2: Interview

The following interview was conducted by Dr. Richards

Dr. Richards: Good afternoon SCP-████, I hope you’re feeling comfortable right now.

SCP-████: No, no, I’m fine thank you. Though I would prefer if you addressed me by “Road Wizard” or just “Wiz.” SCP-████ sounds a bit degrading.

Dr. Richards: …Noted. Anyways the foundation would like to ask you questions regarding your… job.

SCP-████: My job! Well you see Dr., as my name suggests, I am a wizard. My job is simply to keep everyone safe and responsible. The world is a very dangerous place, you SCP foundation folks would know that better than anyone about that fact!

Dr. Richards: You know of the SCP foundation?

SCP-████: Of course I do! Very big fan of your work! Trying to keep everyone safe from all these dangerous anomalies. Kudos to you guys, kudos!

Dr. Richards: Uh, thank you? Anyways, can you detail how you usually preform your job, or keep people “safe?”

SCP-████: Uh… I guess lecturing people on the rules and importance of road rules, filling up potholes, sticking reflective poles near edges, stuff like that. Pretty mundane huh?

Dr. Richards: What about your staff? What do you use that for?

SCP-████: Oh my staff! Well, I use it to channel my magic for the more dangerous part of my job. Magic can be real dandy in a rock slide.

Dr. Richards: I see.

Room is silent as Dr. Richard pauses to write notes.

Dr. Richards: *coughs* Um, SCP- sorry, Road Wizard. If you don’t mind me asking, I know you dub yourself as the “Road Wizard,” but is that the only safety concern you have? Or are there others like you that specialize in other hazards?

SCP-████: Funny you should ask that Dr., my real name’s actually the Safety Wizard. I just go with road because America has a crap ton of cars you know? And no, there's no one else like me so far that I know of.

Dr. Richards: So do you specialize in anything else then?

SCP-████: Sure I do! Let me just-

SCP-████ then manifests their staff from their hand which starts to emit a blue glow. A train sign then projects at the tip.

SCP-████’s outfit then suddenly shifts into a mock version of a steam engine engineer of their outfit, complete with a cap, denim overalls, vest-cloak and a yellow and black striped bandana.

SCP-████: Trains! Guess you could say I’ve become the “Rail Wizard!”

Silence.

SCP-████: Haha, sorry. There are other specialities too, but it’d probably take a while to show you all of them.

Dr. Richards: So are you able to switch forms like that?

SCP-████: That’s right miss! It’s very important to be dressed proper for any job!

SCP-████’s staff projects a car sign and outfit returns to previous description.

SCP-████: So any other questions for me Dr.? I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to be going soon.

Dr. Richards: SCP- I mean Road Wizard, you are aware that we can’t just let you go out.

SCP-████: I understand your concerns Dr., seeing what kind of place you guys run. But believe me, I’m not a dangerous guy! And it’s not like you folks can keep me in here anyways.

Dr. Richards: What do you mean by that?

SCP-████: Oh nothing. Anyways, it was nice chatting with you Dr. Richards, but I really must be on my way. See you later!

Dr. Richards: Hey, wait!

*SCP-████’s staff projects a Two Way Traffic sign and a glowing, yellow portal appeared to the right of SCP-████. SCP-████ then enters through the portal which disappears.

[END LOG]

——————————————————————————————————

The Hazard Monster

Item# : SCP-█████

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-█████ should be contained within a 5 m x 5 m x 5 m chamber of reinforced concrete. Door and windows should be tightly sealed to prevent SCP-█████ from escaping through any cracks.

Description: SCP-█████ is an amorphous, black blob which can change its mass, texture, shape, and composition through anomalous means. SCP-█████’s face appears to be an NFPA 704 Diamond symbol. Each section of diamond can open up to reveal a set of teeth or eyes (amount varies). SCP-█████ normally uses its anomalous abilities to inflict injuries on people. The relationship between SCP-████, or as they dubbed themself, the Road Wizard, is very negative.

Addendum 1: Discovery

Foundation was first alerted of SCP-█████ when reports of multiple incidents were reported by the people in the town of █████████. Residents were reported being injured by a black shapeshifting blob. Foundation, with the help of the Road Wizard, were able to track down SCP-██████ and capture it. All town residents were given Class A amnestics.

#the road wiz #hazard monster #myart #sqwonks #this was fun to make #long post #the numbers are blocked out because they’re not official

299 notes · View notes

saphstories · 6 months ago

Text

I'm Already There

For @e-vay. 😘

Something was different today. Perhaps it was the shade of blue in the sky, not as bright as it should be, dotted with the occasional white cloud? Or the fragrance of the flowers, lilies and roses not as sweet on the breeze as they bloomed? Or even the sun itself, not as warm even with the first day of spring in full arrival?

Amy Rose sighed and stroked her fingertip down the lonely stalk of a blown dandelion, watching the seeds dance in the wind with downcast green eyes, off to places unknown for planting and blooming.

...Or, maybe...just maybe...Was it her own heart's ache that made today so somber? ...Could it be...the absence of her heart that made this beautiful day awash in grey?

Amy shook her head and dropped the stem on the grass beneath her checkered picnic blanket. She was being silly, that silly lovesick Amy Rose... but try as she might to enjoy the warmth of the sun, the blue of the sky, the fragrance of flowers...it still wasn't right.

She harrumphed. This was ridiculous. He hadn't even been gone long, only a couple of days, and here she was, pining and moping, wasting a perfectly lovely day. "Pull yourself together, Rose." The pink hedgehog grumbled, flopping back onto the blanket to glower up at the sky. "Sonic's been gone for far longer than this before... you used to go months with only sparse texts!"

As if conjured by her grouching, the communicator at her side beeped and flashed with the specific tone for a message from the Blue Blur himself. Amy pretended she waited a moment, calmly picking up the device to check with poise and grace and not at all like the crazed kid she used to be...but she couldn't even fool herself. She lunged for the communicator, eagerly bringing up her messages with large green eyes full of stars.

It was a photo. Stamped for only a few minutes prior, with a towering ice cream sundae topped with dripping fudge, tiny chocolate chips, a sugar cone spear, and a bright red cherry on top. Amy's mouth watered at the sight, and her lips curved up into a smile at the winking grin the handsome blue hedgehog at the corner of the frame posed for the camera. 'Best thing about Apotos: Chocolate Sundae Supreme! Though the ice cream will never be as sweet as you. 😉 Wish you were here, Ames! Maybe you could come with next time? I might even share 😜 Xoxoxoxo'

Amy giggled, a lovely flush worthy of her name spreading across her cheeks. She caressed the screen lovingly, longingly, her heart both heavy and warm. It was far from the first text he'd sent since his departure, and she treasured each one, each call he graced her with at morning and night she relished in his voice.

...Who was she kidding? Amy missed him, felt his absence as keenly as she did the blanket beneath her. She missed his laughter, his smile, his confidence, his touch. It had only been two days... but two minutes would have been more than enough without her Sonic. Now, she supposed, that he was truly hers, just as that she was his.

Amy jumped, startled, when the communicator let out a sweet melody. "You give me butterflies~," It sang, and Amy hurried to answer it.

"Hey there, troublemaker!" The familiar voice smoothed the disquiet in Amy's heart, and she relaxed on the blanket for the first time all morning. "Ya didn't answer my text. Busy?"

"Maybe a bit, but I suppose I can squeeze you in." Amy teased.

"Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while." Sonic's voice dropped to a low purr, full of promise, and Amy giggled, blushing pink even if he couldn't see. "Whatcha up to?"

"Nothing too exciting, just sitting under the apple tree." Amy said dismissively. "How was the ice cream?"

"Awesome, like always. How'd you like to know for yourself sometime? Next time we track ol Eggy to Apotos, we could make a date out of it?"

Sonic the Hedgehog offering to take her on a date would never cease to make a thrill skitter through her fur. "It's a date." Amy agreed.

It was quiet on the line for a long moment, and Amy wondered if Sonic had gotten distracted with something else... "You okay, Ames?" His voice was soft, full of concern. "You sound..." He trailed off.

He knew her far too well. "Yeah. I'm fine," She sighed and pinched her nose. "I just... really miss you." Amy confessed, her voice dropping into a whisper, as if her volume could hide her embarrassment. "It's ridiculous, I know, I'm sorry-,"

"Amy Rose." Sonic cut her off, firm and gentle, so confident but so sweet. "Nothing you ever feel is ridiculous, and never be sorry for telling me how you feel. I know I'm not the best at emotions, but you never have to hide yours from me. I don't want you to, not ever. You're Amy Rose, the most passionate, strong, and incredible person I know, and so much of that is because of that big, beautiful heart of yours." He huffed a quiet laugh. "As for missing me, well..." Amy could hear the smile in his voice, the affection that drifted through the speakers straight to her heart. "You don't need to. I'm already there. Can't you feel me?"

"Sonic, I-," Amy breathed.

"I'm right there beside you, Ames. You just need to look around. Can't you see me?" Sonic hummed lovingly. "Can't you feel me there? I'm the sunshine in your quills, that breeze that kisses your cheek." Amy closed her eyes, a smile stretching on her muzzle as the breeze tickled her cheek fur, her quills warmed and shimmering in the sunbeams. "I'm as close as your shadow, holding you in my arms on the blanket, right there with you. I'm there, Ames, right there in your heart. And as long as you keep me there, no matter how far I go, wherever I go, just remember: so long as you love me, I'm already there."

(Welcome to This Day Masterpost!)

95 notes · View notes